


Rainstorm

by tordarroch



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Haytham Kenway, Father/Son Incest, M/M, Rimming, Sex In A Cave, Spit As Lube, Top Connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 08:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13407147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tordarroch/pseuds/tordarroch
Summary: Haytham and Connor are forced to seek shelter during bad weather.





	Rainstorm

**Author's Note:**

> when you find out a buddy ships the same nasty shit that you do, you have to write fics for them. edited by my wife and [banana](https://bananabuttstuff.tumblr.com/). also it's 2018 and i'm still not over ac3.

The journey was supposed to be clear skies, but a sudden rainstorm had forced Haytham and Connor Kenway to seek shelter before they could reach the tavern they had been aiming for that evening. Haytham hadn’t wanted to spend more time around his son than absolutely necessary; a tavern would have provided separate rooms, some food, and some well-deserved ale. But now he was forced to hole up in some moss covered, dingy cave with nothing but a small campfire for warmth, and some burnt looking mystery meat for food.

“What even is that?” Haytham asked as he begrudgingly took a seat next to the fire, cursing as he picked up the questionable looking stick and eyed the large chunks of meat attached to it. Fat and juices dripped down the wood, making his hand sticky as he inspected it, and he couldn’t help the grimace spreading across his face. But even as it looked bad, he realised that it actually smelt phenomenal. His son continued to surprise with his many skills, and Haytham was left with nothing to complain about beyond the presentation.

“It’s hare, father,” Connor said with a flat tone, raising a chunk of meat to his mouth and ripping it from the bone; no pretence of being civilised - not even in company.

He sneered, rolling his eyes before he took a bite, his hunger outweighing his need to be snobbish for once. Undeservingly, he was rewarded with the delicious taste of tender hare, the succulent mouthful falling apart on his tongue.

“Are you going to continue to look at me like that all night?” Connor asked, sucking the rest of the meat from the bone before throwing it into the small pot by the fire. “You’re looking at me like I just skinned your cat.” He paused, shrugging as he got to his feet, brushing down his clothes. “Or dog? I don’t know what you would keep as a pet.”

“Neither,” Haytham grumbled, picking at his food as he tried not to stare at Connor; tried not to watch him as he moved around, picking up their packs and moving them to the side, clearing a larger space. He tried to concentrate on the items in the cave; the flickering fire; the delicious hare… but he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting to his son. The way his large body lumbered around the small cavern had him captivated.

Even more so as he tugged off that stupid assassin jacket and threw it over a rock with little care, and he found his eye drawn away from the coat as he laid eyes on Connor’s body; his large muscles that were so much more obvious with only a thin linen shirt covering them; the sheer size of him making Haytham suddenly feel so much smaller. He had spent the entire journey so far staring at his son, his gaze growing fonder by the second, and alarmingly, not the kind of fondness he had hoped to develop for _his son_.

Just seeing a man built like Connor awoke a deep yearning within him, one he usually kept well quashed with the use of a male escort a few times a year. Seeing Connor now though shook him, stirred up those forbidden desires with something even more sinful. Haytham had always been attracted to anything taboo, so this feeling hadn’t surprised him. He was just disappointed in himself for letting it get so bad that he found himself adjusting his dick as it hardened in his trousers.

“I am more of a cat man, I suppose,” he said finally, turning his attention back to the fire, trying to ignore the thought of being under Connor, raking his nails down his muscular back as his son fucked into him.

“Ah, of course you are,” Connor replied, letting out a hearty laugh and it was another moment until he re-joined him by the fire, his tunic unlaced and his trousers hanging loose on his hips.

Haytham knew he was staring; knew his eyes were locked firmly on his son’s crotch as he raised his arms in the air, his tunic rising to show a slither of darker skin, a tuft of hair peeking out from just under his waistband, the light fabric of his trousers clinging to the large package concealed within them.

If Connor had noticed his father’s gaze, he had chosen to not pay it any mind as he crouched down, prodding the fire with a stick, smiling into the warmth. He couldn’t think about this, not right now. Connor was actually being… sociable, wasn’t jumping down his throat for no reason at all, other than existing. The Templar arguments finally had bored him, maybe that was the reason for his wandering mind. Whatever it was, he needed to stop it now. He was a fully-grown man, in control of his body and brain.

“Do you prefer cats or dogs?” He asked, clearing his throat as he picked at the hare, trying to keep his attention away from his son.

Connor shrugged, tilting his head upwards as he clearly pondered the question. Ask Connor who he wants to kill, he can come up with an instant list. Ask him what animal he likes, and the boy acts like you’ve asked him the meaning of life.

“I think I like bears most of all,” he said with a shrug, still smiling to himself. “They are a comparable size to myself. I like an animal I can fight fairly with.”

Haytham rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he threw the stick into the fire, getting to his feet. “Naturally, one must always have a pet to whom they are an equal,” he concluded with a deep chuckle, busying himself in his satchel, trying to rid himself of all thoughts, especially the pressing image of Connor, shirtless, wrestling a bear. The thought enough to make his temperature rise.

If he didn’t stop thinking like this, he wouldn’t make it through the night without making a mistake. If Connor didn’t still hate him already, then he certainly would again after anything his mind had planned.

-

Haytham had managed to finish the night without saying anything too incriminating. He had even managed to make it through the awkward conversation about their sleeping arrangements, and the incredibly patronising way that Connor had instructed him to make a sleeping mat from moss and twigs.

As soon as they had laid down, Connor had fallen asleep instantly, and the gentle sounds of his breathing had lulled Haytham into a light slumber quickly enough. However, he had awoken suddenly, disoriented and unsure of how much time had passed. He could see the fire had gone out, but the sky was still dark, and he found himself pulling his blanket up, his body shaking in the cold.

He glanced over at Conner; at the way he was sprawled out on his makeshift mat, his long johns clinging to his thick thighs, the outline of his cock resting visible even in the low light. How he wasn’t freezing to death was beyond him. He was still wearing almost all his clothes, having refused to shed them - partly due to not wanting to be cold, mostly due to not wanting Connor to see his embarrassing erection that seemed to refuse to disappear.

Staring so blatantly; so unabashed, he barely noticed that Connor had opened his eyes, a sleepy smile on his face.

“Are you cold?” He asked, and Haytham snapped out of his trance, pulling his blanket further around him.

“It’s like the bloody arctic in this cave, you fool. Of course, I’m cold - I’m fucking freezing,” he mumbled, visibly shaking and it didn’t even register with him what was happening until he saw Connor start to move, dragging his blanket and makeshift mat with him as he inched closer to Haytham, clearly still half asleep as he settled back down again.

“We can share warmth,” Connor started, yawning as he pressed his head down into his pillow (which seemed to consist of his coat and boots). “I’ve heard from many women that I am a pleasant enough bed companion.”

Haytham found himself scoffing as he lay down next to him, not thinking about what was happening; not paying it any attention. If he ignored it, he could get through it. So what if he was about to lie in his son’s arms. It was to share warmth, nothing else.

“Hmm, yes, I’m sure there are women all over who can attest to you being a ‘pleasant bed companion’,” Haytham said with a chuckle, letting out a sigh. “I’m sure you tell a beautiful bedtime story, plait their hair, and chase away any monsters in the night.”

He thought Connor may have passed out; gone straight back to sleep, judging by his heavy breathing, but instead he felt him shift behind him, his large body soon pressed against his back. He pleaded mentally for Connor to go to sleep very quickly, so he could calm himself down, maybe even silently get himself off. Connor wouldn’t notice, he could be very discreet.

But it soon became clear that Connor was still very much awake as a hand moved to his waist, just enough pressure for Haytham to feel it through his many layers, and his breath hitched as he stared directly in front of him, the darkness shrouding his vision.

“Maybe you are right, maybe my experiences with women are not as vast as yours, but I am not stupid,” he whispered, his voice suddenly so much closer to him, his lips near his ear, and breath hot against his skin, almost burning him as Connor pressed his body into his, the hand on his waist holding him still. Not that he could move anyway. His body was frozen, and it was not because of the weather. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, father.”

Haytham swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath as Connor’s hand moved across his stomach, sliding to the front, his fingers slowly unbuttoning his jacket and all he could do was lie there and let the inevitable occur.

“Tell me what you want, father,” he whispered, and his voice so deep that Haytham couldn’t help but shiver and press back against him and feel his son’s hard cock pressing against his ass even through his many layers. “I’d do anything for you. Anything to make you proud of me.”

What was he supposed to say to that? He couldn’t even begin to fathom a response as Connor continued to unbutton his jacket, pushing it open so his hand could tug up his shirts and slide under them, his fingers seeking contact. The skin on his hand was rough; calloused from his outdoor excursions, and so different than the usual touches of noblemen and paid company that it made him ache deep inside. Haytham had honestly thought he was past the age of experiencing new things, but trust his son to prove him wrong.

He found himself gripping Connor’s hand, pushing it lower; both of them sharply intaking breath as Haytham pressed Connor’s palm against his crotch; against his thinly covered erection. He couldn’t bring himself to turn his head as Connor started to kiss his neck, his hand clumsy as he rubbed Haytham’s cock through the fabric, his rocking almost sloppy as he loudly mouthed at his skin.

“Please father, let me do this for you,” Connor whispered, dragging his hand to Haytham’s hip, pushing the fabric weakly as he continued to thrust against his ass. “I can make you feel good.”

That wasn’t even up for debate. He knew that anything Connor could do to him would be amazing, but he couldn’t get out any words, his own hands fiddling with the buttons on his trousers until they were loose enough for Connor to push them down, all the layers on his lower half gathering at the tops of his thighs, his dick springing out into Connor’s waiting hand.

“Mm, you’re so hard,” Connor mumbled, and Haytham found himself nodding as he felt Connor’s own cock pressing against his bare ass, the cotton of his son’s long johns the only thing that separated them. He wondered how long it would be before Connor would get greedy and want more. After all, his son always was the kind of person who ran before he could walk.

He could feel himself shaking in anticipation as Connor’s large hand started palming his dick, his hand occasionally slipping down to grope his balls, but Haytham couldn’t even tell if it was intentional or not. Had Connor ever been with another man before, or was this just pure instinct? It didn’t matter to Haytham though. As long as Connor continued touching him then he would make do with any amount of inexperience. Right now, all he wanted was for it not to stop.

“Is this all for me?” Connor asked, crudely shaking Haytham’s dick in a way that made him curse under his breath, Connor responding with a laugh directly into his ear. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Are you going to just play with me or are you going to fuck me? We don’t have all night,” Haytham finally said with an irritated voice, but he couldn’t stop himself panting as soon as his words were done, his body suddenly swamped with feelings as Connor’s hand moved to his ass.

“Patience, father, I will give you what you need.”

Nodding, he turned his head, moaning into the mat beneath him as he felt a dry fingertip brush against his asshole before the hand was gone, returning a moment later with moisture clinging to it. He found himself pushing back as that same finger returned to his ass, pressing against his opening as Connor began teasing him with his fingers.

“Relax for me, father, please,” Connor said in a soft voice, and Haytham snorted, shaking his head.

“Easy for you to say. I know what’s coming, I’ve been staring at your crotch long enough to know what you’re packing,” he mumbled, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as he felt Connor finally manage to press a finger inside, his thick digit feeling like more than any other man he had ever been to bed with.

“I think that’s the first compliment you’ve ever paid me.”

Haytham rolled his eyes, letting out a shaky breath as he reached down to stroke his own cock in response to Connor’s fingers; to the way he slid it inside, fucking him slowly with his digit, occasionally sitting up enough to spit down onto his hand and slip another in, the sound of his wet hole being fingered filling the cave, and embarrassingly enough, overriding the sound of the weather.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this; couldn’t believe he was letting his own son put his fingers inside him, and even worse, he couldn’t believe how fucking good it felt. Not even in his wildest dreams did he think that Connor would ever actually do this with him, not willingly anyway, and he never had any plans to force himself upon his son.

“You’re opening so well for me father,” Connor reassured, interrupting his thoughts as his other hand slid around Haytham’s body, pulling him closer as he pushed his fingers inside deeper, pressing inside him, rubbing hard as he responded, soft moans dropping from his lips and he tried to spread his legs, tried to get Connor's fingers to go deeper, but his trousers clung to his thighs and he hated that the restricted movement only turned him on more.

“Just put it in me for crying out loud,” Haytham stuttered out, his voice strained as he awkwardly shifted, pushing back against Connor again and groaning as Connor finally removed his fingers and shifted behind him. It was humiliating how Connor continued to tease him as he gripped cock and rubbed it against Haytham’s ass, mumbling words that didn’t reach his ears. All he could hear was the sound of rustling as Connor moved behind him, his hands gripping his body as he adjusted himself, his dick brushing against his ass and he was still again, frozen with anticipation for what he so desperately desired.

It felt like forever before Connor nosed at the back of his head, breathing heavily as he moved his hair out of the way and pressed his lips against Haytham’s skin, his lips hot, burning every inch they kissed. He lay there, his hands moving to grip the blanket over them as Connor’s cock nudged against his hole, his body relaxing, trying to welcome him in but Connor was sloppy; inexperienced as he thrust, his dick sliding lower and between Haytham’s thighs, both of them groaning in frustration.

“Try again,” Haytham uttered out, his body shaking as he felt Connor move again, his heavy dick resting against his hole, Connor’s thumb pushing the tip inside as he grunted against his neck, mumbling curses under his breath until the head slipped inside. They both moaned as Connor’s thick dick pushed deeper inside, stretching him in a way that made him bite his lip to stifle any sound he might make. He never was one for making noise, but he was hyper aware that where noises in a tavern room did nothing but raise eyebrows - moans in a cave could attract deadly attention from wildlife, or even worse, displaced soldiers.

“Stay still,” Connor whispered, his large hand sliding to Haytham’s hip, holding him in place as he adjusted himself, finally settling down with a grunt before he dug his fingers into his body and started to rut into him slowly.

Haytham wasn’t sure what he expected from his son; such a crude and rough young man, and he shouldn’t have expected some tender love making. No, fucking like animals on the floor of a cave seemed so fitting, and he detested how much he was enjoying it. Hated how his body throbbed each time Connor moaned against his neck and fucked into him, his hips pushing his cock into Haytham over and over, a relentless pace that was sloppy, unpractised, and yet exactly what Haytham knew he needed.

He reached out to steady himself, his fingers digging into the makeshift mat as Connor’s body shifted and he found himself being naturally rolled over, Connor’s thick cock slipping from his hole with a wet noise; in a way that made him hiss a curse as he allowed himself to be manhandled onto his front, the leaves and debris from the mat scratching against his dick but before he could complain, Connor’s large hands had pulled his ass up and pried his cheeks apart.

“What the hell are you doing?” He found himself grumbling as he tried to look over his shoulder and he wished he had failed; wished he hadn’t seen his son licking his lips and spitting down against his asshole. The image of his son greedily peering down at him, spread open and loose was burned into his eyes and as he turned away, he felt himself melt into the ground as a new wetness lapped at his hole, pressing inside eagerly.

He found his ability to form words disappear, decades of education suddenly unlearnt as he let his son tongue fuck him, nothing but nonsense falling from his lips. He had heard many stories about such a debauched act, but never had he met anyone willing to degrade themselves in such a way… and here was Connor, doing it without prompting, a curious expression on his face every time Haytham managed to turn his head enough to see him. He wanted to know where Connor had learnt of such a thing, or whether being a degenerate was simply in his bloodstream.

Pushing back, he panted loudly, unable to steady his breathing as Connor’s tongue continued to probe inside him, his lips lewdly smacking as he pulled away, spitting at Haytham’s hole again and again. He wanted to say something more; wanted to chastise his son for being filthy but before another sound could escape his lips, he felt the head of Connor’s dick against his asshole again, pushing inside just slightly before he removed it again.

“Stop toying with me,” he hissed, shaking his head. 

He heard Connor laugh; heard him cluck his tongue before the sound of clothes rustling deafened him. A familiar ache in his back graced his senses as Connor adjusted him, a grumble falling from his lips before he felt his ass being spread again. He felt like cheap whore as Connor slapped his cock against his ass, curses falling from his lips. He didn’t understand where Connor got the nerve to do this to him; why he wasn’t hesitating or questioning.

Bracing his head against the floor, he took in a deep breath as he felt Connor’s fat tip rub against his hole, dipping in and out, the loud sound of him spitting cutting through the sound of his own heavy breathing. He was about to complain and tell him to get on with it when one of Connor’s hands slid along his thigh, holding him still as he pushed inside, his girth stretching him out; the sensation burning and overwhelming and he could only punch a fist into the ground as Connor filled him once again.

Connor didn’t move his hips as he sunk into him, slowly leaning down and resting his weight on top of Haytham.

“Father, you feel so nice; so warm…” Connor purred into his ear, the weight of his son on top of him suffocating him; his big dick throbbing deep inside him, Haytham’s hole aching. He tried to push back, tried to make him move but all Connor did was slide his hand to Haytham’s forehead, scraping his sweat drenched hair back.

“If you don’t start fucking me, Connor, I am going-” But before he could finish his sentence, a hand slipped to his mouth, blocking all his voice as Connor wasted not another moment, his hips moving suddenly; quickly, his hard cock sliding in and out, jabbing into him over and over in blunt motions.

“You want it like this,” Connor mumbled into his ear, his other hand sliding to Haytham’s ass, grabbing it roughly as he continued to fuck into him. “You’d never let anyone else treat you like this, hmm?” He asked, not moving his hand and Haytham found himself trying to speak into it, drooling against Connor’s palm.

It was true though. He would never let anyone be so rough with him; so daring and it was shameful to realise that Connor knew this.

“You like that, father? Does it feel good?” Connor whispered, his voice hoarse as he nosed at Haytham’s neck, panting heavily against him as he kept fucking him. Each time his cock pressed inside, he let out a ragged moan, his body trembling as Connor pulled out, his stupidly large cock leaving him empty until he thrust back in again, little regard for what it was doing to Haytham.

His own erection was hanging heavily between his legs, his balls full and waiting. Every intake of breath was heavy, his throat raw from the damp and his head feeling light. Connor was relentless in his fucking, his hulking body pounding into him over and over, knuckles white as he gripped onto the ground.

“Tell me I’m doing a good job,” Connor mumbled into Haytham’s ear, his thrusts growing lazier; sloppier. “Please, father.”

Haytham shook his head, opening his mouth to speak but nothing came out as he suddenly gasped for air. “Oh, don’t worry, you’re doing a good job, such a good job,” he muttered, trying to calm his breathing but he found it impossible, moans preventing him from doing anything but fall back into a panting mess. “Just don’t stop, keep going.”

“I’m close, please let me come inside you,” Connor rasped, and Haytham found himself closing his eyes, his body shaking as his cock dripped at the mere thought of what Connor said, his dick twitching, his fluids spilling onto his jacket. He couldn’t stop his body from trembling as he rode out his orgasm, pushing back against Connor as he continued to fuck him; waiting for his father’s permission.

“Such a good boy,” he mumbled, placing his face back down against the ground, groaning as he rubbed his cheek against it. “Don’t pull out, we wouldn’t want to make a mess,” he uttered, groaning as Connor’s hands gripped his waist, holding him as his thrusts grew sloppy, loud grunts falling from his son’s lips.

He mustered up the energy to turn his head just in time to see Connor lick his lips and throw his head back, his tunic completely askew on his body, ruched up enough to reveal his glistening abs, yanked to the side enough to even reveal a muscular shoulder and he found himself holding his breath as Connor let out a soft moan, his thrusting sporadic and he hated that he was staring, hated that his cock pushed out its final bead of release as he saw his own son climax inside him.

He lost track after that. Everything came crashing down on him. He had done so many awful things in his life, so many acts that could be the ruin of any name, but this really took the trophy for most fucked up thing he had done.

Connor slipped out of him, mumbling something Haytham couldn’t understand, and he found himself just lying there as Connor pulled his trousers back up for him, tucking away his flaccid cock. He managed to raise his hand to his face, covering it as he sighed. He couldn’t believe how gentle Connor was being so soon after fucking him like that.

He was still panting as Connor flopped down next to him, his large arms pulling him close, his long leg hooking over him and as much as the sudden affection shocked him, he had to admit that he wasn’t cold any more. 

Sure, his ass hurt from being fucked, and his cock was raw from rubbing against the mat on the floor, but at least he wasn’t cold, he thought sarcastically.

“Are you seriously going to sleep?” He asked as he heard Connor’s breathing slow down and he tried to turn around in his arms, but his grip was far too tight.

“I tend to do that when I-”

“Please, do not finish that sentence,” Haytham mumbled, shaking his head. “Do you not want to… talk about what just happened?”

Connor shrugged against him. “It is what it is, father,” he quipped, rubbing his face against Haytham’s shoulder.

“That’s exactly what I feel we should discuss. I am your fath-”

“Please, we can talk about this in the morning. We only have a few hours of darkness left,” Connor grumbled, huddling even closer.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Father! Sleep!” Connor said with a chuckle, pulling him as close as possible and Haytham couldn’t even muster up a struggle, the warmth far too inviting. He didn’t even try to avoid the lull of Connor’s heavy breathing and before he knew it, he was falling asleep.

-

When morning finally came, Haytham found himself alone but the smell of the fire told him that Connor was still nearby. All his half-asleep plans about waking up before sunrise and disappearing on his horse forever had been foiled by his slothful ways.

Pushing himself up, he felt his body start to protest but he had no time for that as he saw Connor stood outside, the opening of the cave framing his son as he bent down and grabbed a cloth from the bucket by his foot. He knew he should have averted his gaze, but again, he found himself brazenly staring as Connor stood up straight and started to rub his body with the small rag, raising his arms and dabbing at his pits. He hated himself even more as he felt a familiar stirring in his trousers again, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Haytham swallowed hard, staggering to his feet, his body aching but the pain was numbed by the sight of Connor, rubbing his body down before throwing the cloth to the side to pick up the bucket. His eyes widened as watched Connor hold the bucket over his head and tip the contents out, the water cascading down his muscles, drenching him completely before he threw the empty tub down with a grunt.

If he had thought that a fuck would have got this out of his system, then he was quickly discovering that it was not the case. If anything, his lust was even worse. Before last night, he would have been able to turn away and ignore it, but now he found himself staring, his cock hardening as Connor took in a deep breath and stepped back inside the cave again, his hands rubbing his wet stomach.

“Ah, you’re awake. Come to the fire, I caught a deer,” Connor said with a cheerful tone that Haytham knew he couldn’t match. To say he wasn’t a morning person was putting it nicely, but being a man of his standing, he knew how to fake pleasant conversation before midday.

“Couldn’t you find something like eggs?” He asked, his tone grumpy as he failed to do the one thing he thought he could. Maybe Connor had got to him, maybe he was growing to be comfortable in his son’s company.

And all it took was letting him bugger him in a cave. If he’d known that at the start of the journey, he would have let him do that the first night. It would have made the journey thus far so much more pleasant.

“I’m sorry that the deer and hares do not lay eggs for you. Maybe you could go throw some gold at them, work some miracles,” Connor remarked, beckoning Haytham closer and reluctantly, he found himself inching nearer the fire, his entire lower half pleading for him to lie down again.

“I think it’s a miracle that you have caught, killed and skinned a deer and I’ve not even taken my morning piss,” Haytham grumbled, rubbing the stubble on his jaw as he limped closer, letting out a groan as he sat down, Connor’s curious eyes obvious over the fire. “And yes, if you must know, this is entirely your fault. Didn’t it occur to you to retrieve some oil from my pack? Or to maybe, just maybe go a little easy on a man who is over twenty years your senior?”

“You didn’t seem to mind last night,” Connor replied with a shrug, still running his hands over his bare, toned chest and Haytham tried to ignore it, tried to stay on subject but his son was distracting, whether his actions were intentional or not.

“You hardly gave me a minute to breathe, let alone a moment to tell you that your stupidly large dick might need something a bit more than spit,” he murmured, grabbing another branch with the fresh meat attached to it. He was starting to wonder whether Connor could make anything that wasn’t on a stick. Still, what it lacked in presentation, it made up for in taste. It was infuriating, to say the least.

But Connor only laughed in response, his deep voice echoing in the cave, his face lighting up. “You have been so full of compliments for me recently. If I’d have known that making love to you would have made you this pleasant, I would have done it at the start of the journey.”

Haytham did a double take, shaking his head as he heard his thoughts come from Connor’s mouth almost word for word. Chewing down some meat and swallowing it, he cleared his throat, laughing to himself.

“Making love? Son, you have so much to learn.”


End file.
